


Sleeping in Clover

by stilitana



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Living Together, Pre-Canon, Rehabilitation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-15 21:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11814213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilitana/pseuds/stilitana
Summary: Some scenes from the 50's trio, chronicling the development of their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Gilbert and Sullivan's "Iolanthe".  
> Being Human belongs to Toby Whithouse and the BBC.
> 
> I'm American and have been to the UK a grand total of one time so my apologies for any inaccuracies. In a fit of summer nostalgia I went back and watched season 4 and now I have a lot of Leo/Pearl/Hal inspiration.  
> Vampire rehab is a bit overdone by now but I'm enjoying exploring the dynamic between these three. Thanks for reading!

Leo sat at the wobbly table staring uncomprehendingly at the paper and hoped that the walls of this rented hovel were thick enough to spare the neighbors the sounds of the vampire sobbing in the cellar. It was the middle of the night, the second night after their escape, the second night of Hal’s confinement to the chair in the cellar, and already he was nearly beside himself. Leo wasn’t sure what he expected. Violence, surely. On the train ride away from the dog fights to Southend to this cramped, dingy hole in the wall, Hal had sat stiffly, tapping patterns on his knees as he warned Leo that he would threaten, scream, insult, bribe, beg. He had not warned him about the crying. Or the singing, for that matter.

“It will not be pleasant,” Hal said as they set the cellar up. It was mercifully windowless. It was also damp and clammy and unencouragingly similar to a crypt.

“If it were I think I would have heard of this before,” Leo replied. “How many dry vampires do you know?”

Hal licked his lips, clenched and unclenched his hands. “None. Once, I did, a long time ago—that was the first I heard of it, that it was even possible. She’s long lapsed by now. It’s so unbearable that if there’s nothing there to remind you why you’re doing it you forget and then…”

“I am here,” Leo said. “Are you ready?”

Hal took a deep, unnecessary breath and shrugged off his coat. His eyes were glued to the chair, his entire body taut with dread. One day of travel, one day without blood and already he’d begun to change. Leo didn’t know it at the time but when they left behind the dogfights they also left a part of Hal, the one that didn’t twist up into a grimace at the sight of crooked picture frames. (Perhaps left was too strong; buried, more like.)

Hal sat in the chair. His breathing was shaky as Leo tightened the straps. “Maybe this should wait,” he said, his voice getting high with desperation. “What about your barbershop? We should find that first, settle in properly.”

“We are going to do this right or not at all,” Leo said. “You asked for my help.”

Hal nodded. “I did. I did because I trust that you will either do all you can to keep me clean or stake me because that is what it takes to make me safe. I am trusting you not to trust me, Leo.”

Leo finished with the restraints. “I understand. Now what?”

“Now I suppose you can go up and lock that door behind you and begin whatever it is one does when starting an honest living.”

“You want to just be left down here? Shoud I find something to distract you, some music, maybe?”

Hal stared up at him with his pale, drawn face and blinked slowly. “Why do you care how comfortable I am?”

“We have moved on now, Hal. It’s all too recent to be forgiven but I am not going to waste my freedom on resenting you and making you suffer.”

“Oh. Well, if you change your mind and would like a taste of revenge you need only stick around to watch what happens next,” said Hal with an ugly, pained smile. 

Leo nodded and turned to go.

“Wait!” Hal blurted, panicked. “Could you leave the door open? Just—for the light, there isn’t any down here.”

“Yes,” Leo said. “I was just going to get something to read, I was not planning on locking you down here in the dark.”

“Oh,” said Hal, flushing with embarrassment, his body sagging against the restraints.

They spent that first tense evening without much conversation. Hal retained enough control to quell his urge to babble, to threaten, to confess. Leo hadn’t had any luggage to bring but Hal had two bags so he helped himself to one of the vampire’s novels. He read Dickens on the cellar stairs so that his presence was hopefully not too intrusive but close enough to remind Hal, but of what Leo wasn’t sure. Not to try anything tricky? That he hadn’t been abandoned, that Leo was going to make sure he saw this through to the end?

Leo ate a can of cold soup that night from the few provisions they’d hastily bought upon settling here. He offered some to Hal. The vampire sat tense, coiled tight as piano wire, his head bowed. His eyes were screwed shut. At Leo’s offer he’d merely given a jerky shake of his head. Leo figured he’d have to force him to eat eventually but decided to let it slide this first night and went back to his novel and canned lentils. 

Then Hal started muttering under his breath. Leo kept his eyes on his book but found himself listening, wanting to understand. Despite himself he was fascinated.The muttering picked up volume and rhythm as the minutes wore on and with astonishment Leo realized he was singing (it was more like desperate, strained chanting, really.) He wasn’t sure what to do. What was the protocol for dealing with detoxing vampires? He figured there wasn’t one. There was only his judgment and steady willpower against Hal’s bloodlust. The thought was chilling but he wouldn’t back down.

Hal’s leg was shaking up and down, tapping a frantic beat against the floor. His fingers too. Suddenly the singing broke off with a gasp as his back arched and his head snapped back. He moaned and went limp again, chin falling to his chest. After a moment he took a shaky breath and sat up, hands gripping the armrests.

“What was that?” Leo asked.

Hal startled as though he’d forgotten the werewolf was there. “A cramp,” he muttered, avoiding Leo’s gaze. “The hunger is cellular. It’s withdrawals but also a warning reflex—when you touch something hot, how you jump. Pain is a warning. Blood tricks the body into thinking it’s still alive so right now mine is convinced it is dying and is warning me it will if I don’t feed it.” Hal gave a high laugh that was almost a giggle. He bit down on the sound quickly, wincing. “It forgets we’re already dead. I’ve always wondered if we’re really immortal because the oldest of us, the ones who’ve been around a thousand years or more, they’ve started to rot from the inside out.”

Leo was quiet for a moment, taken aback by how quickly Hal’s composure and eloquent speech had fallen to pieces, become nigh incoherent rambling. “Oh. I meant what was that you were singing?”

“I was singing?” Hal whispered, his eyes going wide.

Leo almost laughed. Then he did. It was all so absurd, and what was the point to life if there was nothing humorous?

Hal looked stricken. “Are you laughing at me?”

“A bit,” Leo said. “Not at your pain, but I think that one day, when this is safely behind us, you will look back and see something funny in it too. Now what was the song?”

Hal averted his gaze. “Gilbert and Sullivan,” he muttered, voice so low it was almost inaudible.

“I am afraid I’m not familiar.”

Suddenly Hal’s head snapped up and he glared at Leo with empty, black eyes. “Why all this incessant chatter? I didn’t peg you for a simpleton but there is no other explanation for your insistence upon civil conversation, unless you are trying to drive me mad, in which case I must inform you that the goal is redundant. I’ve clearly lost my mind entirely, letting a dog tie me up like this.”

“Our minds do tend to slip with age,” Leo mused, unmoved by Hal’s moodswing. He would grow to recognize them as a basic part of the man’s most base nature.

“But I’m not the only one who’s trapped,” Hal said, smiling, his voice dropping to a rumble like liquid velvet. “How it must pain you, being chained to me. And for what? To spare the lives of some strangers? Release me and you will never see me again; your freedom will be complete.”

Leo shook his head. “My freedom could not be complete knowing I had broken my word to you, that you were out there killing when I might have stopped it.”

Hal gave a shriek of frustration and thrashed as much as he could in his restraints. “I will tear you apart!”

“Empty threats don’t become you.”

“Don’t become me? Do not mock me, you fucking dog! Untie me at once!”

“I will not do that, but if you don’t quiet down I’ll have to gag you, Hal. We can’t have the neighbors coming over.”

Hal shuddered and when he next opened his eyes they were brown. “Don’t,” he said, his voice broken.

“I won’t if you don’t make me.”

There was silence for a while. Leo went back to his book. After a while Hal began to mutter his song again.

Leo slept on the sagging sofa that came with the place. It was stained and smelled like cat food but after his previous accommodations it was luxurious. He left a light on for Hal.

* * *

The next day Hal was even more jittery and tense. He was pale and sweating, but quiet. 

“Will you be alright if I go out for just an hour or so? We need more food, blankets, supplies. I’d also like to start looking around for job opportunities.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” said Hal, wincing as he repeated himself. His eyes were shut tightly again. “I showed you where the money is. Get whatever you need.”

Leo sighed. “Alright. I’ll be back soon. Do you want anything?”

“I’m fine,” Hal said. “No. I mean. Ice would be appreciated.”

Leo didn’t ask. He was more than ready to put some distance between himself and the vampire, to get some fresh air, if only for a little while. He left.

 

For a while he just strolled, feeling the wind and sun on his skin, tasting the faintest hint of salt from the sea on the breeze. This was what he was doing it for; not out of concern for the vampire’s soul, not because Hal needed a keeper, no. Because it was Leo’s turn, because he deserved this, to buy himself a beer and stroll along the esplanade and bathe in sunlight. If playing monster keeper was the price he would pay it in full. Maybe one day Hal would even thank him. 

If Hal could be a better man, could do even the smallest penance for his actions, maybe there was hope for Leo, too, and the five men whose lives he ended. If there was hope for Hal to wash a bit of blood off there was hope for the world.

It began to rain as he stepped down onto the sand, a light sprinkle of mist that sparkled in the light. A sunshower. He slipped off his shoes and walked through the warm sand and tilted his face up. The beach was empty. It was the middle of a Tuesday morning. He went down to the sea and let it lap at his feet, let the foam swirl around his ankles, and then he closed his eyes and spread his arms so the wind blew at him. He imagined it blowing between his very cells, cleansing him.

He heard a sniffle. Leo opened his eyes and at his left, just a foot away, was a girl in a blue dress with tears running down her face. She was staring at him with naked, raw longing, with sorrow and loneliness and no one had ever looked more tender or tragic. She was standing very close, mere inches between their faces. Her expression and proximity were so unguarded and intimate that Leo was struck by the impression that no one had ever truly looked and seen him before. The closest anyone had come was Hal in that cell the night he made the decision to escape. 

“It must feel nice,” the woman said, voice tight with tears. “You wonderful, wonderful man.”

“Are you alright, miss?” Leo asked, and then her eyes widened and she screamed and fell back from him, heels slipping in the sand. He grabbed her arm to stop her from falling and she shrieked again at the contact, surprising him so much he let her go and she fell back into the water.

“You can see me?” she said.

“Of course.”

“Are you...have you passed away then, too?”

Leo shook his head. He offered his hand and pulled her from the water. “Something else,” he said.

“What?”

“A werewolf.”

Pearl’s eyes shone as she stared at him in wonder. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet. Her skin felt as though she’d just come in from the cold; he had to resist the urge to massage some warmth back into her chilled fingers. “Like out of a fairytale,” she said.

Leo laughed. Then Pearl was laughing too and they stood like two lunatics in the water, in the rain and sun and wind.

He was shocked at how easy it was to walk along the beach talking to her, to be charming, to be charmed. It was the most natural thing in the world, swapping stories with Pearl. They told each other about family and friends. He told her about leaving home to come to Southend, wanting to own his own barbershop. She told him about the little house nearby, how her family was packing up and was going to leave her soon. They didn’t talk about how she’d died or what happened to him when he got here. It was not that kind of day, with the wind blowing her hair and his smile wide and easy. He was a bit self-conscious at first about still wearing borrowed clothes from Hal, the white, loose shirt rumpled from their journey, but soon it went away. He felt he’d known her for years.

He explained to her what he knew about ghosts, how she had unfinished business that could set her free. As they wandered closer to where he was lodging his thoughts became darker; he sobered up from the giddy high of her company and in a quiet, caring voice told her about how she ran the risk of fading once her family left, if she continued haunting them as they moved on and grew further from her. She shed some more tears but put on a brave face, took a deep breath, straightened her dress and looked up at him.

“Well, then. I suppose that if that’s the case, since there are people like you in the world who can still see me I’d better stop spending time hanging about people who can’t.”

“But where will you go?”

“I...I don’t know. I don’t want to fade… Oh, Leo, I feel so embarrassed to ask, but you’re the first person who’s spoken to me in months and I just can’t be alone again—do you think I could stay with you? Or at least see you again.”

“Of course,” Leo blurted, who’d been thinking the same thing but too shy to mention it. Then reality slammed into him and he remembered the vampire in his cellar. His face fell. “Pearl, there’s something you must know first.”

“Alright. Don’t tell me, your roommate’s a leprechaun, she said, with a nervous laugh.

“A vampire, actually,” Leo said.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. We met when we were both...in a bad place. I agreed to help him get his condition in check so we moved here to get away from it all. But it has only been two days and he is in a fragile state.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“He has stopped drinking blood. It is not an easy thing to do.”

“Like...like an addict in rehab?”

“Something like that.”

Pearl nodded. “My uncle Frank was an alcoholic.”

“Perhaps you might want to wait until we have a more presentable house, until he is more stable..”

“Please don’t make me spend another moment alone,” Pearl whispered.

Leo sighed. “I couldn’t. Come then, we have grocery shopping to do. Hal wants ice. Besides, our current place is only temporary. I think we will definitely be needing somewhere with a bit more space.”

They returned with many more groceries than Leo had planned on getting thanks to Pearl’s intervention. She looked around at the dingy one-room and sniffed.

“It is not much,” Leo said. “But don’t worry, when I get my shop we will fix up a proper home.”

“This will do,” Pearl said with a nod. “Just needs a bit of a woman’s touch, that’s all.”

Leo went down to the cellar with the bag of ice, Pearl following at his heels. “You should stay up here,” Leo said. “He is unpredictable. He can be cruel.”

“I’ve never seen a vampire before,” Pearl whispered. “I’ll stay behind you.”

Leo opened the cellar door to find Hal slumped in the chair, chin to chest, blood all over his shirt and lap. Leo gasped and Hal’s head jerked up, his chin and mouth smeared with black-red bile, his eyes glazed over. “I need to steam-clean that sofa,” he said. “I can smell it all the way down here.” He gulped, clearly mortified to be found in such a state of infirmity.

“Oh,” Pearl murmured, and instantly Hal’s gaze zeroed in on her, sharpened. 

“Leo,” he said, voice tremulous, “It’s started. The hallucinations.”

Leo sighed. “No, Hal. This is Pearl.”

“You’ve brought a woman here,” Hal breathed, going very still as his eyes went black. He stared at Pearl, began to pant and salivate. “Oh, Leo, Leo, Leo...what were you thinking?”

Pearl wrinkled her nose. “Who do you think you are, looking at me like that?”

Hal grinned and his teeth shone like a knife between the dark, bloody vomit smeared on his face. “Come a little closer and I’ll show you.”

“Hal,” Leo snapped, striding forward and slamming the bag of ice down between the vampire’s legs.

Hal flinched, blinked, and his eyes were brown again. He craned his neck to look around Leo, who followed his movement to block Hal’s gaze and keep Pearl out of sight. 

“Control yourself,” Leo said. “Pearl is a ghost. A guest in our house.”

“That explains it,” Hal murmured. “I can’t hear her heart.” He looked up at Leo, who stepped aside so he could see Pearl. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” said Pearl. “Just, uh...don’t let it happen again, mister.”

Then Hal seemed to become aware again of the state he was in and his face flushed in shame and embarrassment. “Get her out of here,” he hissed at Leo, teeth gritted. He strained at the straps. “Is this your revenge, then? Show me off like an animal in a cage, humiliate me? A bit of poetic justice?”

Leo sighed and led Pearl back upstairs. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I think it would be best if, for now, you stayed somewhere else. I will help you find somewhere and when Hal is ready we will move and you can come stay with us...if you still want to, of course.”

“It seems you could use all the help you can get,” Pearl said.

Leo smiled. That was the truth if he’d ever heard it.

He went back downstairs to find Hal licking at the blood on his face. Leo sighed and Hal stopped like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He froze, waiting for some snide comment, and when none was forthcoming he relaxed back into the chair.

Leo set down a bucket of water and set about wiping the blood off Hal’s face and neck.

“If you’d let me out I could do this myself,” Hal muttered.

“Not yet. Believe me, I will be happy when that day comes as well. But not now.”

“Can I have my ice now?” Hal asked, quietly.

“What is it for?” Leo asked, opening the bag. 

“I need something to do with my mouth,” Hal mumbled. “It numbs it so I don’t taste anything. When you stop, it—your mouth aches. You can feel your gums pulsing, like the pain is going to push your teeth out.”

Leo lifted a half-melted ice cube to Hal’s lips and hesitated.

“I won’t bite,” Hal said, with a twitch of his lips. It was a self-conscious, crooked little smile. It was the closest thing to a genuine grin Leo had ever seen him do. He put the ice in Hal’s mouth and watched him move it around with his tongue.

* * *

Two weeks later Leo had a job at a barbershop and they relocated to another house, this one closer to the shop and less rundown. By then Hal was a regular wreck. Leo made him put on sunglasses and promise to keep his eyes closed the entire time and then led him like a blind man to their new home, keeping a firm grip on Hal’s wrist, his other hand close to the stake tucked beneath his jacket. Hal shook and muttered and bit his lip until Leo pinched him to keep him from drawing blood. 

They did away with the chair which made the entire experience much more bearable for the both of them. Now Hal stayed locked in the cellar with a mattress and a pile of books and a sink, god, he nearly wept at the sight of the bloody sink. He was so beside himself that this pathetic comfort of material things didn’t even fill him with shame. He had changes of clothes, he could get up and pace, could hold things, turn coins over and over in his hands.

“Can I have a pack of cards?” he asked Leo one afternoon when the man came downstairs with a plate of toast and tea. “Or, or, some matches or rice or something, straws, paper.”

Leo took the man’s recent turn towards obsessive mania in stride and brought him some playing cards, as well as Pearl. Hal was sat on the floor sweating through his nice clothes, humming, pale and drawn. Pearl looked radiant as ever. He’d been meeting her for walks on the beach or in the park. She was still living with her family, but that was soon to change.

Hal started when they came in, staring with wide, sunken eyes. “You again.”

“Me again,” said Pearl, crossing her arms and looking around the cellar. It was as immaculate as a cellar could be, given the circumstances. Hal’s clothes were folded in neat squares, his few belongings lined up against the walls in straight lines.

“You seem to have a habit of taking in strays,” Hal said, quirking a brow at Leo. “Pack instincts, perhaps?”

Leo sighed. “There’s no need to be nasty, Hal. We just thought you might like some company.”

Hal took a shaking breath. “Why in the world would I want that?”

Leo held out the cards. Hal perked up and reached out to take it, fumbling to open it with trembling fingers. He upended the box and shuffled the cards around in a pile on the floor.

“Oh, want to play a game then?” Pearl asked, with obviously forced cheer. “I know Go-Fish, War, Crazy-Eights, Rummy…”

“I don’t want to play any insipid, pointless card games,” Hal muttered, starting to line them up in neat rows, a grid of upside-down cards.

“Well excuse me for thinking you might be going a bit out of your head,” Pearl huffed. “I’m not the one locked up in a cellar, what do I know?”

“Yes,” said Hal, pausing in his sorting, his fingers hovering over the cards. His shoulders were hunched; he looked up at her. “What do you know? Who is this woman, Leo? Why have you involved her?”

“I’m Pearl.”

“So many rooms in this new house,” mused Leo. “So much extra space…”

“What are you going on about?” Hal snapped, wincing and rubbing his temples. He licked his lips; his entire body was shivering. “I really don’t feel well, Leo, so don’t push—oh no. No, no, no, no. She is not moving in here.”

“Oh, man of the house, are you?” Pearl said, looking him up and down. 

Hal’s fists clenched. He was gritting his teeth. When he looked back up his eyes were black and he was smiling. “I see what you’re doing, Leo. So long as you are stuck with me this is as close to normal as you can be, isn’t it? This is as good as it gets. The only kind of woman you can bring into this house is one that is already dead.”

“Enough, Hal,” said Leo.

“Move her in then,” Hal said. “I know how it is. I’ve done it myself, had my fair share of ghosts for company. They’re…” Hal trailed off and the black left his eyes. His eyes darted around as though he’d forgotten what he’d been doing and he resumed sorting the cards by color and suit in tombstone-neat rows.

“What are you doing?” Pearl asked.

“Sorting. There’s nothing to put in order down here.”

Leo watched and wondered and worried. Pearl knew nothing of vampires but the handsome, broken man in the cellar and this concerned him. Seeing only this twitchy, sickly version of Hal was dangerous; she didn’t know his other side. With no idea of what he was capable of could she understand the gravity of this living arrangement, the precarious house of cards Leo was building? Could she enforce boundaries?

On the other hand, perhaps her innocence was precisely what they needed. A reminder of what life was like for normal people who didn’t have blood on their hands (or in their mouths and thoughts.) She could set the moral bar, mark a threshold for violence that Hal could not cross. Leo was closer to his humanity, sullied by what he’d been made to do in the fights but not destroyed. Hal on the other hand...Leo wasn’t sure the man remembered what life was like before being a vampire. Pearl could remind him that centuries of bloodlust was not a given, was not the norm. She could be a talisman, the thing Hal strived for; if not to be, then at least to preserve, protect. If he could not be human the least he could do was let them be, leave them alone. And he couldn’t hurt her, not really. She would be safe. She would not fade.

Leo watched Hal shake and sort his cards and the beginnings of an idea began to unfurl. If this was what the vampire was like beneath the blood then perhaps he would not be so difficult to manage after all. If Leo couldn’t chain him with morality maybe all he needed was to tighten some of the restraints that already existed.

“About how long will he need to stay down here?” Pearl asked.

“I’m not ready yet,” Hal muttered. “I need to stay in this room.”

“Forever?” Pearl asked.

Another spasm went through Hal’s body. He wrapped an arm around his middle and took a deep breath. 

“For as long as it takes,” Leo said, watching Hal bend double in pain, a low whine escaping his throat. “Let’s leave him now,” he said to Pearl. “It’s a beautiful day for a walk.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years with boards on the windows sure is one way to bond with your flatmates.

It was a bright spring morning when they let Hal out of the cellar. Six months spent pacing in the dark, clawing his way toward self-control half an inch at a time only to be dragged back by nightmares, fatigue, pain. Leo stuck close to his side as he climbed the stairs on shaking legs and stood in the living room in the soft light that filtered through the curtains Pearl had strung up. He stood there taking measured little breaths and steepling his fingers before his chest, casting darting glances around him at the space Leo had let Pearl take full control over decorating.

 

“So?” Leo said. “How is it?”

 

“It’s...ghastly,” Hal said, shuddering as he stared at the mismatched blankets sloppily tossed on the sofa, the clean but disorderly arrangement of dishes and ingredients on the kitchen counter.

 

“I meant being out of the cellar,” Leo said.

 

“Oh. Nice, it’s very nice,” Hal muttered, absentmindedly straightening a pen on the tabletop.

 

“Excuse me?” Pearl said. “Ghastly? Says the man who’s been living in a musty old cellar for half a year!”

 

“I wouldn’t wind her up if I were you, Hal,” Leo whispered conspiratorially. “She’s an interior designer now.” He nodded at the clippings on the table from magazines and adverts, pictures of living rooms and bedrooms.

 

Hal couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t that quaint.”

 

Pearl huffed and flounced up to him, shoved a finger against his chest.

 

No one had touched him for more than half a year aside from Leo untying his straps and wiping vomit from his face. Hal flinched and then he couldn’t help it, he bared his teeth at her and snarled. Immediately he realized his mistake and stepped back, looked at Leo, who was staring at him.

 

“Maybe you are not ready yet,” Leo said.

 

“No!” Hal said, stepping back from both of them and raising his shaking hands, palms outward. “No, please, I am.”

 

“Then apologize.”

 

“I am sorry, Pearl,” Hal said, facing her. “That was rude of me, even if I do find it all a bit hard to look at—I mean, that is to say, it has a certain homely charm. It’s...cozy?”

 

Pearl sniffed and nodded. “You are forgiven.”

 

Hal quirked his lips, amused at her formality.

 

“Well, sit down, sit down,” Pearl said. “We’re having toast and eggs  _ and _ bacon to celebrate.” She went about finishing in the kitchen while Leo sat at the table. Hal stood behind her.

 

“Quit hovering, it’s making me nervous,” Pearl said. “Go sit.”

 

“Where are the plates and cutlery?”

 

“Bottom shelf there and then the drawer underneath—why?”

 

Hal retrieved the plates and utensils and went about setting three places at the table, taking a bit too long with his shaking hands and need to put the forks down perfectly straight. When it was done he breathed a sigh of relief and looked satisfied as he sat down beside Leo.

 

Pearl joined them with the food. “I can’t eat, you know.”

 

“I know. I just thought you might like to be included.”

 

“Oh. Awful gentlemanly all of a sudden. Are you feeling sick? Should I get the bucket again?”

 

Hal sighed. They would never let him live it down. Leo scooped scrambled eggs onto both of their plates and plopped a slice of toast on Hal’s. 

 

“Pearl, go easy on him, please,” said Leo. “Just for now,” he added with a wink.

 

Leo scooped a bit of red jam onto Hal’s toast and then a few uncomfortable moments went by as they watched him spread it with obsessive concentration, seemingly in some kind of trance at the sight of it. Leo snapped his fingers and Hal looked at him.

 

“Eat,” said Leo. “Then I have tasks for you.”

 

“What kind of tasks?” Hal asked warily.

 

“You need to be kept busy. It does not matter as much what the task is so long as you have one.”

 

Leo had Hal was the dishes when they were done and then retreated to the sofa with Pearl who’d been giving him a look that he knew meant they needed to talk. He thought it unlikely Hal wouldn’t be able to hear them, but then again, he had quickly become absorbed with washing their plates and hadn’t even protested. Leo had expected some resistance, some indignation at the idea of become Leo’s maid or some such nonsense. Instead Hal had merely looked relieved at being given something clear and specific to do, something he could accomplish. It was as though so much of his mental and physical energy was directed at keeping himself in check, was diluted by his hunger, that making decisions for himself was burdensome, too much to ask right now. 

 

Leo had never been a manipulative man but he was observant and he understood people and their motivations quickly which meant he had the tools to manipulate if he chose. Were Hal human, his increasing neuroticisms and dependence upon Leo’s direction might be cause for alarm. But he wasn’t so these very traits were what Leo hoped might lay the groundwork for keeping him under control. It was not a matter of making the cage look more appealing than the outside world; it never would. Though Leo had begun having a strange fondness for the other man (which he suspected Hal reluctantly returned) he must remember that it was not his friendship that would keep Hal contained, no matter how much he wanted it to. His friendship meant nothing if it made Leo too trusting, too sentimental to lock Hal up or worse if the need arose. He supposed that in Hal’s case that was what friendship was, that ability to keep him in check.

 

No, friendship would do neither of them any good if he let it blind him to Hal’s nature. That was what made Leo singularly capable of caging him; he had met him during one of his darker spells and so he would not forget what side of the man he was keeping at bay, no matter how fond he grew of the person Hal became when he was clean. He must not get too comfortable, too confident in Hal’s self-control.

 

“What is the matter with him?” Pearl whispered once they were seated in the other room.

 

“I think that neither of us would be in the best of moods after months locked away, Pearl. Give him time to adjust. He may not always be the most pleasant company but this is his home, too. We made a promise. He kept his end of it so I will keep mine.”

 

“But how long will that take? Now that he’s out of the cellar is he fine, just like that? How long will we need to—to supervise him all the time? I'll miss our walks so much, and I thought you wanted to help me see if we might find more out about my unfinished business.”

 

“And I will,” Leo said. “But Hal is dangerous and needs my help, Pearl, especially now. He cannot leave the house yet or be left alone here. Locking him back in the cellar for an hour or two every day so we can have our walks is not too much to ask, believe me; he may not be happy about it, but he will allow it. Remember that all of this only works because he wants to be good. I don’t know how long it will take and we can’t ask him. We just have to take it one day at a time. Can you do that?”

 

“Yes,” Pearl nodded. “The sink’s been off for a while, do you think we should…”

 

Leo got to his feet and stepped back into the kitchen, Pearl following, to find Hal leaned over the sink with his face and hands pressed up to the window, the curtains pulled back. He was shaking, a quiet, needy whimpering sound escaping between his trembling breaths. His eyes were black, his expression one of naked hunger. He seemed to be devouring the passerby with his gaze, drinking them dry with his eyes.

 

Pearl made a distressed, disgusted noise but stayed motionless as Leo strode forward and grabbed Hal’s shoulder, yanking him away from the window, spinning him and slamming his back into the wall. Hal gasped and had the presence of mind to at least look ashamed as his eyes returned to their original color. He avoided Leo’s gaze as he stared him down, kept Hal firmly pressed against the wall. In the scuffle he’d bitten his lips when his fangs were still out and now two beads of blood were dripping slowly down his chin. Hal almost unconsciously started to lick them away when Leo shoved him again, more forcefully.

 

“Don’t,” he said.

 

“It’s mine,” Hal said, voice thin and weak. “It won’t do anything.”

 

“Why torment yourself then? I don’t want to keep you in that cellar forever, Hal. What is going on? You need to talk to me about what you’re thinking and feeling or this is not going to work.”

 

“I can hear them,” Hal whispered. “Their hearts, and...and I can smell it. When I look at them I just see the veins beneath their skin, Leo. If I were out there I don’t know what I’d do, I don’t know if I’d—”

 

“You are not out there and you will not be for a while yet, then,” said Leo.

 

“I want it to stop,” Hal whispered. 

 

“It has to get worse before it can get better,” Leo said.

 

“How would you know? Maybe it never gets better, just worse and worse.”

 

“Maybe so. But you will also get used to it. It will not seem so bad. It will become background noise and one day you will wake up and it won’t be the first thing you think of. And then the next day it will take even longer to cross your mind until finally maybe you’ll hardly notice at all.”

 

“I suppose I’ve been around long enough to know there’s truth in that. I want it to be true. You wouldn’t believe the things people are capable of getting used to.”

 

“There are some things they should not,” Leo said, his gaze flickering to Pearl, who stood on the far side of the room, watching. Hal followed his gaze and understood. A mean, envious little smirk curled his lips for just an instant and then was gone. “But this is not one of them,” Leo said, and stepped back. “Let me see your hands.”

 

“Why?” asked Hal, already lifting them, palms up. They shook but not nearly so bad as they had been when he could barely feed himself. He would have to learn to shave for a third time. The first when he was a boy, the second without the aid of a mirror, and now again with unsteady hands.

 

Leo had him sit at the table and presented the dominoes. “I want you to make a spiral. I want this to be the only thing you devote as much of your attention to as you can so you’re focused completely on this one task.”

 

“I don’t see how a game is going to help,” Hal said, but he was already lifting the first piece from its box and placing it at the center of the table.

 

“What are we going to do?” Pearl asked, exasperated.

 

“It’s supposed to rain later,” Leo said, putting a jazz record on and retrieving a book before settling in a chair to keep an eye on Hal. “How about a quiet day in?”

 

“My whole life has become one long quiet day in,” Pearl grumbled, but picked up her needlework and sat beside them. 

 

Leo glanced up at Hal occasionally over the pages. He was on the third domino and seemed on the verge of having some kind of conniption. Leo noted that without even being told to he was placing them each an exact half inch from each other.

 

After a while Hal’s eyes began to stray to Pearl and her embroidery. “It’s flagging,” he muttered. “You need to correct the backing.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’ve got some puckering, too.”

 

“Leave the embroidery to me, why don’t you?”

 

“If you’d just—”

 

“Hal, leave her be. You have your own task.”

 

“It’s an obnoxious task.”

 

“Hal.” Leo kept his gaze firm and unwavering until Hal looked away.

 

Hal muttered something in another language that didn’t sound very nice, which was quite childish, really, but Leo let it slide. A few minutes went by with Pearl mumbling and humming over her embroidery and Hal muttering and shaking. A bead of sweat went down his temple.

 

“You know embroidery?” Pearl asked after a while.

 

“A bit,” Hal said.

 

“Where’d you pick that up?”

 

“A girl taught it to me. She was wealthy and enjoyed playing mentor to me on the finer things in life, as she called them. It was a long time ago. I was around before the sewing machine so you can imagine that such skills came in handy.”

 

“Playing mentor? So you haven’t always been such a posh gentleman?” Pearl said, half sarcastic.

 

“No,” Hal said, and his hand shook so badly he knocked over the fifteen domino he’d managed to stand. He cursed.

 

“Start again,” Leo said.

 

“I can’t,” Hal gasped, his hands spasming, clenching and unclenching all on their own.

 

“You can. We will sit here all day if that’s how long it takes.”

 

Hal gritted his teeth and started again.

 

* * * 

 

Late in the afternoon Pearl began to feel stir-crazy and went out for a walk. Hal finished his domino spiral as the sun began to lower and stain the sky red. Not that he could see it.

 

“Good,” Leo said. “Now take it down, one by one, just as you put it up.”

 

“What?” Hal hissed, his hand trembling where it was poised to knock the whole thing down. “You can’t be serious.”

 

“If you can stop yourself from giving in to small urges, you can learn to hold back from larger ones.”

 

“But—but it’s just dominoes. It’s nothing like that.”

 

“If it’s not a big deal then you should have no problem taking them down.”

 

“I really want to knock it over,” Hal whispered, as though this revelation amazed him. “Oh, God.”

 

“This is what happens when you spend years denying yourself nothing. Self-control is like a muscle, Hal. It can atrophy. You are not a child, you can learn it again. Take them down, one by one.”

 

Hal swallowed, his mouth working. He began disassembling the dominoes. Pearl came home and made dinner.

 

“Hal, did you want to set the table?” she called.

 

“Yes,” he muttered. “Let me finish.”

 

“You’re hardly even halfway done, that’ll take ages! Can’t he take a break, Leo?”

 

“Come, Hal. It will still be there when we’re done.”

 

“I can’t leave it halfway done like this. I won’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

 

“Good. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Pearl’s made a lovely…”

 

“Cauliflower au gratin. Also roast meat and vegetables and Yorkshire pudding.”

 

“Wonderful,” said Hal, taking down another domino. “Fine, fine. Happy?” he asked, joining them at the kitchen table and setting out the plates and silverware.

 

“Yes,” said Leo. “I have been waiting for the day when we would all have Sunday dinner together.”

 

Hal rolled his eyes. “Right. I’ll bet you have.”

 

“I mean it,” Leo said. “Look at what we’re doing. A vampire, a werewolf, and a ghost, sitting down to have a meal together, sharing a house.”

 

“Playing house, more likely,” Hal muttered, struggling to cut his food with shaking hands.

 

“Do you have to be unpleasant, or do you just enjoy it?” Pearl asked.

 

“The food is wonderful, Pearl,” said Leo, cutting in.

 

“Is it? I’m glad. I always worry it won’t be, since I can’t, you know, taste it.”

 

Hal looked at her, surprised. “But you can!”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Put your hand on Leo’s head.”

 

“I’m not in the mood for any mean tricks, Hal,” Pearl said.

 

“No tricks,” Hal said, leaning forward, a little life coming into his pale face at the prospect of having something to offer, something of value to dangle over her head for a few moments. “I know ghosts who claim they can experience all sorts of sensations by having contact with the living.”

 

“Leo?” Pearl said.

 

Leo shrugged. “I haven’t heard of it, but Hal has known more ghosts than me. No harm in trying.”

 

“Focus just on what you’re tasting, Leo, or she might end up experiencing something else.”

 

Pearl stood behind Leo’s chair, both hands placed gently on his head, with her eyes closed while Leo chewed. Hal resisted the urge to laugh and instead went about cramming food into his mouth with more vigor than was really healthy given his recent tendency towards being sick after eating, but the hunger was in him and it was early enough in the process that he was willing to try anything to make it quiet down.

 

“Slow down, Hal,” Leo said.

 

“I’m just enjoying Pearl’s lovely meal.”

 

“You’ll be sick.”

 

“If you bring that up while I’m eating, then yes, I probably will, so quiet down.”

 

Pearl gasped and pulled her hands away. “Both of you be quiet! I’m trying to concentrate and experience a delicious meal and here you are talking about being sick!”

 

“Did it work?” Hal asked, shoving more food into his mouth.

 

“Unfortunately,” Pearl said, glaring at him. “I hardly wanted to re-experience seeing all the blood you had in your stomach.”

 

Hal set down his fork forcefully so that it clattered against the plate. “And you think that _I_ _do_? Keep it to yourself, it’s Leo’s fault for thinking about it.”

 

“I couldn’t help it, watching you eat like a starving man,” Leo said.

 

“Oh my  _ god, _ ” Hal hissed, picking up his plate and taking it to the sink to start washing up. “Then don’t watch me eat. It’s hardly any more comfortable for me.”

 

“Don’t open those curtains!” Pearl called. “Do you think I ought to do the washing up, Hal? Only, if it bothered you before, I can only imagine that the night-life’ll look even yummier.”

 

Hal rounded on her, incredulous, eyes glinting. “ _ Yummier?  _ If you two are trying to make me sick, congratulations, it’s working. By all means, carry on.”

 

“I’d rather not,” said Pearl, placing her hands on Leo’s head again. “Think about the cauliflower  _ only _ this time.”

 

In a minute she gave a delighted cry. “It worked! That is pretty good! Oh, thank you, Hal, really, this is brilliant.”

 

“Um,” said Hal, up to his elbows in soap suds. “You are very welcome, Pearl. Though Leo is the one who’s done something, I merely—”

 

“Just a  _ you’re welcome _ will do, Hal,” she said, and got a faraway look in her eyes. “I thought I’d never taste anything again. Never feel anything again. What else can I do?”

 

Hal shifted his weight, keeping his eyes on the plate in the sink. “I’m sure there are all manner of things for you to explore...plenty more foods, sensations.”

 

“What else did the ghosts you’ve known do?”

 

Hal cleared his throat. “Er.”  _ Used their power to experience secondhand sex, mostly. Or to keep the doors locked and level stakes at his heart if he got too peckish. Depending on what sort of cycle he was in when they met. _

 

“What?”

 

“You know, the usual. Levitate things. There’s a neat teleport trick but I haven’t the faintest idea how to teach it to you. I imagine you could pick it up with a bit of practice.”

 

“I can teleport?” Pearl laughed. “I’m like some sort of superhero!”

 

“Indeed,” Hal muttered, drying the plate.

 

“Finish those dominoes before it gets too late,” Leo said. “You need to start having a regular sleep schedule.”

 

“I don’t need much sleep,” Hal said, getting back to work on dismantling the spiral.

 

“I don’t need any at all,” Pearl said. “It gets a bit dull, so don’t complain. Maybe I’ll use this mind trick and experience some sleep again.”

 

Hal’s head jerked up to stare at her. “Don’t. Really, Pearl, do not try that on me while I’m sleeping. It’s an invasion of privacy.”

 

“It was just a silly joke, settle down,” Pearl said, looking at him disdainfully. “I don’t want anything to do with whatever goes through your head while you’re sleeping anyway.”

 

Hal’s face was burning. “Then stop thinking about it,” he hissed.

 

“I’m not!”

 

“Yes, you are, I can see it.”

 

“You can see me thinking? Is that a vampire power, or are you just special?”

 

Hal groaned with frustration.

 

“Would that even work on you?” Leo asked.

 

“Yes. Why wouldn’t it?”

 

“Well, I just wondered, since you are dead, after all.”

 

“Oh. No, it still works. I’m afraid that hasn’t much stopped me,” Hal muttered, and turned his attention back on the dominoes, coming to the end of his tolerance  for conversation that evening. When he finished he and Leo went to bed. Pearl stayed up listening to Leo’s records late into the night. When she was sure both men were asleep she stood and placed her arms around an imaginary partner and swayed to the music.

 

* * *

 

The next day Leo had to go to work and left Pearl in charge of keeping Hal confined to the house. He knew she could do it but worried anyway and hurried straight home at the end of the day.

 

He came inside to find Pearl crying silently, standing with one shaking arm outstretched towards where Hal was crumpled against the far wall, his eyes black. He was shaking as though straining against something, the way he’d done in the chair, and Leo realized Pearl was holding him in place, was purposefully between him and the window behind the sofa, the one that was bare of curtains and had a view of the street.

 

“Oh thank god, Leo,” she said, and released her hold on Hal, who remained slumped against the wall in a daze. “I didn’t know what to do, I had no way to get you without leaving him, and I couldn’t, he was—well, he wasn’t himself. One minute he’s doing dominoes like you asked him to, the next some lady walks by and he’s throwing himself at the window!”

 

“What did you do to him?” Leo asked, watching Hal’s eyes return to normal, though he remained on the floor.

 

“Well, I—I panicked. I just wanted to get him away from there, to make it stop, and I sort’ve...just flung him against the wall. I didn’t mean to do it so hard, but I was scared and he wasn’t listening to me so I didn’t know what else to do.”

 

“You did the right thing,” Leo said, giving her a tight embrace before kneeling beside Hal.

 

“I think he hit his head pretty hard,” she said.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hal mumbled.

 

Leo sighed and helped him to his feet. “I think you should spend the night in the cellar where there are no windows to tempt you.”

 

Hal nodded and let Leo lead him away, but not before mumbling, “Thank you, Pearl.”

 

“For what?” she sniffled. “Giving you a concussion?”

 

“No,” he said. “You saved me.”

 

* * *

 

The next day Leo boarded up the windows. Pearl and Hal sat next to each other on the couch and watched as the light was quartered off in blocks, as the outside world disappeared. Leo with hammer and nail shrunk reality down to the size of a living room. It was a dismal reminder of how far they all were from humanity but it was also safe and it was theirs. Hal felt himself relax a bit more with every board that went up. He was quiet and polite that day and did his dominoes without complaint.

 

Late that night Leo woke and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. He was ill-at-ease, had felt a bit sick ever since the previous night, coming home to find such a scene. When he got his water he became aware of a soft sound coming from the sofa. Dread pooled in his belly but he stepped closer and turned on the lamp only to find Pearl huddled under a blanket, crying softly.

 

“Oh, Leo,” she said, wiping her face. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

 

He shook his head and sat beside her. “No, don’t worry. But Pearl, if something is bothering you, I hope you know you can talk to me about it, no matter the time of night. I hate thinking of you sitting alone out here all night with no one to comfort you.”

 

“I don’t even really know why I’m crying,” she said. “I guess I’m just overwhelmed. I only recently died after all, and then yesterday Hal really gave me a fright, and I think seeing the windows boarded up brought it home how far I am from who I was, how separate from everyone else. I can’t be out there in the world ever again. I won’t ever be like them, won’t ever really feel, no matter how many sensations I experience through you. And I know Hal needs these boards up and I don’t want to take it out on him but God, I hate to admit it, but I really resent him for this! For taking this one little thing from me. I loved watching the people go by. And now it’s like...it’s like being in a coffin! For the first time since I met you two, since I was seen, I really feel like I’m dead all over again. The world has just been snatched from my hands, just like that, just when I was starting to know how wonderful the thing I was holding was.”

 

“Come here,” Leo said, opening his arms and letting her rest against him. “Don’t feel bad. It’s better that you say these things than let them grown and grow until you’re bitter and can’t stand it any more. It bothers me, too, but I think I should have known that something like this had to happen. Pearl, if...I would understand if you didn’t want to stay. There would be no hard feelings. You shouldn’t be locked up in a dark cage like this, you should be out there in the sun.”

 

“I would rather even this than be alone out there,” she said. “It’s silly, really. What do I want with the outside world when the only people who can see me, talk to me, are in here?”

 

“There are others,” Leo said quietly, looking at the ground. The words hurt to say but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t say them, didn’t make sure she knew all her options, that she made this decision the right way. “Hal and I aren’t the only ones who could see you, it would just be a matter of finding them.”

 

“I want to stay,” Pearl said, more forcefully, staring at her hands folded in her lap.

 

Leo nodded. “I feel it, too. This is not exactly the life I envisioned for myself. But it is a life. We are allowed to feel sad, to be angry, but since Hal is not holding us hostage, since we have both decided of our own free will to stay here, I think we must also remember that we can go outside and he cannot. Even though we can’t be just like those people on the street we aren’t the same as Hal, either; we’re able to step out and walk among them for a while, to be in the light and dip our toes in the sea. There has not been a moment in 500 years that he has been able to enjoy a simple moment like that, uncomplicated, uncorrupted.”

 

“500 years,” Pearl whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t think I could do it, Leo. I don’t think I’d  _ want _ to. Life is wonderful, but it’s meant to have an  _ end _ . I don’t think we’re built to go on like that. Even if his body can keep going, I don’t see how it’s bearable, why he would want to.”

 

“I think that when you’ve lived as long as Hal has, you forget why you wanted to live, if you ever did. Why you took that devil’s deal in the first place. I think living becomes a reflex.”

 

“So, what, he’s alive out of habit? What’s the point?”

 

“I don’t know. Right now he’s decided the point is to be a better man.”

 

“I always imagined I would have a quiet death,” Pearl murmured. “Maybe in my sleep, or as an old woman in a bed, with my family around me. I imagined it would be peaceful, that I would be ready when it came, would have done the things I meant to do. It was nothing like that. But imagining that it would be, that made it alright, somehow. The hope, the possibility. I never realized until after I died, but knowing that I would, and that it might be like that, it made my life feel significant, somehow. What does he have to look forward to? It has to end eventually, not even he can last forever, and when it happens it will be horrible, it will be violent. It will probably be murder. That’s the only end he can come to now, a stake through the heart. Maybe that’s why he keeps going, to prolong the inevitable.”

 

“Cowardice is a surprisingly common vice among vampires, from what I’ve seen,” said Leo. “They’re all afraid to die, for one reason or another. Maybe it’s because they do and then it goes wrong, leaves behind a terrifying impression. They’re all traumatized by that corridor, by those—what is it you call them? The men with sticks and rope?”

 

Pearl nodded. “Maybe. Maybe we just can’t understand it. I’m glad I don’t. Despite it all, Leo, this is...nice. Nicer than I’d hoped for when I was alone all those months. I think we might even be happy.” She felt Leo smile. Even though she knew he was she turned to see it anyway, because she could, and it was lovely.

 

Hal lay on his bed in the dark not breathing at all. He could hear them, their murmuring voices like waves washing gently over him. He pressed both hands to his chest, searching, searching, getting to the bottom of himself and finding only nameless, shapeless dread. It curdled inside him. He wanted to make himself have a heartbeat, just for a moment, to remember, but he was all out of blood, out of life, so it sat like a millstone in his chest. He didn’t know anything. It was that late hour when words fled from the breadth of the night and left him alone with this heavy feeling the size of the universe perched on his chest, pressing him down, paralyzed. Before he might have been able to fall asleep knowing it would be gone in the morning or sought distraction with company. Now only one thing could make it go away, the very thing that had made it so bad in the first place.

 

If he couldn’t have a pulse there was at least this: the constant company of the hunger throbbing inside him. He turned over onto his side and curled his body around it, cradled it, savored it. There was pleasure, somehow, even in this. He was old enough to have found by now that there was pleasure in almost anything if you were willing to stoop low enough, and he was. He sank into it and let it consume him, let it lap up all the ambiguous dread and replace it with this more visceral ache. There was nothing abstract about it. By comparison it was almost comforting. It grounded him. It was not so bad tonight, just a steady ache rather than shooting pains. It sang and rocked him right to sleep, a lullaby in red.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio celebrate Pearl's birthday.

There were two bedrooms in their house but with Hal used to sleeping in the cellar, the second had become Pearl’s honorary room despite her not needing any sleep or having any belongings to speak of. It was a waste, in Hal’s opinion, given that she spent all her time in the kitchen and main room getting on his nerves.

 

He was busying himself with organizing the cupboards. First he’d sorted the glasses from smallest to largest, but every time he turned around he found them disarranged, just one out of place. The same thing was happening with the papers he was arranging on the counter, which became just slightly crooked every time he looked away. Finally exasperated he whirled on Pearl, who was staring at him over the top of her paperback novel. Even though he couldn’t see her mouth he knew she was smiling.

 

“What are you up to?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“Who, me? I’ve just been sitting here all morning, haven’t I, Leo?”

 

“Leo, she’s doing something to me,” Hal said. “She’s driving me crazy. I know I just straightened these papers, Pearl, don’t be coy!”

 

She rolled her eyes and set her book down, bending its spine and making Hal wince. She stood with a huff and went to the table where her pens were scattered about her calendar. “You’re no fun. I was just practicing my levitation.”

 

“She’s tormenting me,” Hal said, looking at Leo.

 

“If you have a problem with Pearl you need to learn to speak to her about it yourself, Hal.”

 

“Fine,” Hal seethed, sitting across from Pearl and glowering at her as she wrote in dates on her calender. “Pearl, it has to stop.”

 

“Maybe if you’d lighten up a bit this wouldn’t be a problem, hm?”

 

“No,” Hal said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have to lighten up when you could more easily just stop playing childish tricks.”

 

Pearl rolled her eyes. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Why do you have to make such a drama out of everything?”

 

“It really bothers me,” Hal whispered. “I’m not just asking you to stop for show, Pearl.”

 

Pearl’s expression softened. “Fine. Sorry. I was just having a bit of fun, didn’t realize disorganized cups would have such an effect on you.”

 

“Don’t mock me.”

 

“I’m not mocking you, I just apologized!”

 

“You apologized with a mocking tone, there’s a difference. You’re making fun of me.”

 

“God, you’re unbearably sensitive! When’s your birthday?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your birthday, it’s the only one I haven’t got on my calendar.”

 

“Oh. I don’t know.”

 

“How do you not know?” Pearl asked, taken aback and casting a quick glance at Leo, who just shrugged.

 

“It was just never brought up. Things were different in the 1500’s, Pearl.”

 

“Well, still. Your mother never even mentioned it?”

 

“No, and she never mentioned herself, either.”

 

“What are you going on about now?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Hal hedged. It was too early and he was too sober to talk about this with her.  He wished Leo would cut in and give the condensed little history he’d told him back in the dogfight cell.

 

“We live together, Hal, I want to get to know you,” Pearl said.

 

“Fine,” he said primly, straightening her pens. “I was born in a brothel. My mother could have been any one of the six illiterate whores who worked there but she never saw fit to fess up and then they all died before I could find out.”

 

There was a moment of silence and then Pearl said, “Oh,” going for nonchalance and almost succeeding. “Well. Do you have a best guess or should I just make a day up?”

 

“I don’t see why it matters,” Hal muttered. “September eighth then, if it means so much to you.”

 

“Oh, a virgo,” Pearl said, marking the date. “I can see that.”

 

“What’s special about September eighth?” Leo asked, though he could take a guess.

 

“I died,” Hal said.

 

Pearl threw her hands up. “Hal! I hardly want to have a birthday celebration on the day you died! That’s—insensitive!”

 

Hal blinked. “It doesn’t bother me. You don’t need to celebrate for me at all, I haven’t in the past.”

 

“Don’t be silly. I want as many holidays on here as possible. Gives me something to do,” Pearl said.

 

“Alright. When is yours then?”

 

“Well, funny you should ask!” Pearl said, looking up at him with a smile and eyes too bright. “This Friday!”

 

“Oh,” said Hal. “Congratulations.”

 

Pearl laughed. “Congratulations alright! Guess I don’t have to worry about being another year older, do I? No wrinkles, no gray hairs.”

 

“Mhm,” said Hal, fleeing to the cellar to do the exercise routines he’d begun. Let Leo handle that. He was in no state to offer comfort.

 

* * * 

 

That Friday they locked Hal in the cellar so that Leo could take Pearl out for some birthday excursions. He smiled and bid them well and as soon as the door was shut and locked he did what he’d been waiting for all day, for the moment when he was sure he’d have plenty of uninterrupted time with no Pearl teleporting without invitation or Leo around with his keen hearing. He put his own wrist in his mouth and bit down.

 

His own blood burst on his tongue, cool and stale, but even so he groaned and sank to the floor, braced his back against the wall. _ It isn’t cheating, _ he thought, even as guilt and shame made the blood in his stomach feel like lead. Just self-soothing, another way of twirling dominoes in his fingers to untangle the mess in his head. Whether it was a form of self-destruction or self-indulgence was up for debate. It had hit him suddenly, no warning for this slight step back, just a punch to the gut that left him breathless and panting and remembering the taste of old flames.

 

It was a bit of a taboo, the self-drinking. One’s own blood didn’t do much to satisfy the hunger, nor did the blood of any other vampire for that matter, though it wasn’t uncommon for new recruits to teethe on their maker’s blood. He’d let Cutler do that for far too long and too often. Maybe that’s what went wrong. Hal cut that line of thinking off there; it wouldn’t do, thinking about what he’d done to Cutler, the things they’d gotten up to afterwards.

 

If there was one thing 500 years had taught him, it was how to rationalize. He was weaning himself off the bloodrush, he thought.  _ Everything will be better now, easier, simpler. _ Leo and Pearl wouldn’t know, not about the act itself or its connotations. He would cover the marks and never do it again and this moment would be buried in time.

 

He remembered the ghost of a doctor’s daughter 134 years ago in Italy who he met one rainy night a few days into one of his turns towards penance, just three days off the blood and already trembling. She’d died of pneumonia and could describe in detail the progression of her disease right up to her last moments alive. When she found a sick man on the doorstep of the house she’d kept empty with her haunting, a man who could see her no less, she was so caught by her penchant for charity that she invited him in without asking any questions. She settled him on the sofa with a blanket and a cup of tea and asked him what seemed to be the trouble. Hal had looked at her with wet, pained eyes, with just the right amount of tremble in his lip to secure her sympathies, and told her he was a hemophiliac. She’d looked confused. Asked if he was sure that was the trouble. He said yes, in a way much truer and older than the medical sense.

 

Always leaning on ghosts, on women. They were his crutches. Ostensibly he couldn’t hurt them but Hal was a parasite through and through and somehow managed to drain them dry in one way or another, in the end.

 

He swallowed huge gulps of his own blood and begged the hunger to let it be enough, to let him be full and whole and safe. Maybe the lance wound in his belly had never healed and that was why he was insatiable. No matter how much blood he poured down his throat it just trickled right out the hole in his stomach. He wondered what Pearl and Leo were doing in the world of the living. He wanted to cry, to scream, to break something. Instead he made himself lick his wounds clean, to wash and wrap the twin punctures in his wrist, and in the resulting calm he set to finishing Pearl’s gift. He didn’t have long. He’d reduced the wailing ache to an itch and somehow it was almost worse than before.

 

* * *

 

Leo and Pearl went on a long walk along the esplanade and then to the roller rink where he ignored completely any odd looks given his way and laughed at Pearl’s jokes freely. The music blocked out most of it anyway; no one was paying attention to them. They felt a little thrill, as though they were on some clandestine mission and had succeeded in passing as locals. Afterward he bought an ice cream and they sat in the sand to watch the sun set, her hand on his head as he ate it so she could savor the taste. 

 

She felt a twinge of sadness as the sun sank into the water and took her hand from his head. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No, everything is perfect, I’m sorry Pearl. I just remembered watching a sunset with my family.”

 

“Why does that make you sad? Because you miss them?”

 

“Yes, but it’s more that I feel far from the man I was when I last saw them.”

 

“What...what happened?”

 

“It’s not a good birthday story,” Leo said, giving her a small smile. “I was forced into a violent situation and did things I will never forget. I was going to put a stop to it, in the only way that I could. Hal had his change of heart just in time to stop me and get us both out of there.”

 

Pearl was quiet for a moment. Her arm brushed lightly against his and raised goosebumps on his skin. “I’m glad,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you, and to the others, whoever they were, but I can’t help but be glad you hung on for as long as you did. If you’d ended things earlier, before Hal helped you, I would still be alone. I probably would have faded. I’m sorry if that’s selfish, but it’s the truth.”

 

“Then I am selfish as well,” Leo said. “Because I can’t regret getting to know you, Pearl.”

 

Pearl blushed. When the sun finished its descent they strolled back home and unlocked Hal so they could all sit at the dining table together as Pearl opened her gifts. She was a crafty girl so they’d gotten her a customizable recipe book and scrapbooking odds and ends. Hal had embroidered an intricate cover for the book and though she at first thought the gesture a bit passive-aggressive, he was so humble and polite about it, and had been such a good sport about being locked all on his own in the cellar while they had fun, that she gave him a quick hug and ignored the way he froze up and the undignified squeak he made.

 

She sighed happily as they sat on the sofa together to listen to one of Leo’s records, Pearl in the middle, Leo on her left with his head tilted back and eyes closed, Hal on her right fiddling with the crossword. “My boys,” she said, patting them both on the knees and snuggling further into the couch.

 

Hal was twirling the end of his pen in his mouth, which Pearl thought was a bit unsanitary and not like him at all. He’d been a bit off all evening, not his usual fastidious self, a bit spacey and restless. She let it slide without comment. It was nothing, she was sure, all part of what he was going through. Besides, it had been such a good day. If she didn’t spoil the moment maybe she could stretch it out all night.


End file.
